Gemotions

The pawn shop smelled of old metal and forgotten things. "Just browsing," Leo mumbled, his voice tight. He forced a smile, though his jaw ached with tension. He felt every nerve ending thrumming. The sunlight streaming through the window seemed too bright, too intense.

He kept seeing faces in the reflections of the glass cases, faces that seemed to be assessing him, scrutinizing him. Every cough or shuffle of feet sounded like a conspiracy. He was sure he was being followed, monitored.

He found the ring. It was exactly like he remembered. He felt exposed, vulnerable, as he handled it, as if everyone could see the desperate longing in his eyes.

He imagined his grandmother, her kind face, the way she used to hold his hand. He needed to get it out of here. He needed to disappear.